every instinct I have tells me this was random, we have to make sure of that. So we dig into his life, the friends’ lives, the mother’s life, the sisters’ lives.”
“Why the mother and sisters?”
“If someone had a beef with one of them, taking out Jamal could be retribution. Nothing would surprise me.”
“It’s a thread,” Freddie conceded.
“We’ll start with the people closest to him and work our way out.” She checked her watch and saw that it was after nine o’clock. “I don’t think we should go to the Jacksons’ house tonight. The morning will be soon enough.”
“Agreed.”
Sam was about to suggest they call it a night when Gonzo came into the conference room wearing a grim expression.
“We’ve got another fatal drive-by.”
ACCOMPANIED BY FREDDIE and Gonzo, Sam drove to the Eckington neighborhood in the city’s Northwest quadrant. Bordered by Rhode Island Avenue, Metropolitan Branch Trail, Florida Avenue and North Capitol Street, Eckington was an up-and-coming area known for the colorful townhouses featured in the House of Cards television show opening.
“I love this neighborhood,” Freddie said.
“Nick and I used to come up here to the Big Bear Café when we were allowed to actually go places,” Sam said. “Those were the good old days.”
“Take a right on Quincy,” Gonzo said.
Sam did as directed and pulled into the first available space she found on yet another street lined with emergency vehicles. “I hope it’s not a kid.”
“Me too,” Freddie said.
The three of them approached the yellow tapeline where Beckett once again met them. He held up the tape to let them under.
“What’ve we got?” Sam asked.
“Melody Kramer, aged thirty-one. We found a government ID on her that indicates she works at the Department of the Interior, and her license shows she lives two blocks down on Quincy.”
Beckett’s partner lifted the tarp to reveal a pretty blonde who’d been struck in the chest, possibly directly in the heart judging by the blood that had formed a huge puddle under her.
Sam was about to ask if there were witnesses when a shout from behind them had her turning to see a handsome dark-haired man running toward them, looking frantic.
“What happened? Is that Mel? Let me through!”
Sam nodded to Beckett, who raised the yellow tape to let the man pass. She stopped him from proceeding with her hand to his chest. “Sir, please. Don’t go any farther.”
“I have to know...” His voice broke on the last word. “Is that my wife?”
“What’s your wife’s name?”
“Melody Kramer. She walks down this street every night on her way home from the Metro. She texted that she was on her way, so I came to meet her, and I saw the emergency vehicles.” He rubbed at the stubble on his face. “Please tell me that’s not her. Please.”
“I’m sorry to have to tell you that the victim is your wife.”
His anguished wail sent chills down her spine. “No, no, no. Please not Mel. Not Mel.” When his legs would’ve buckled under him, Freddie grabbed him and kept him from falling. He clung to Freddie as he broke down into sobs.
Sam helped escort the man to a nearby stoop where they eased him onto a stair.
He dropped his head into his hands.
“What’s your name?” Sam asked.
“Joe Kramer,” he said, his voice muffled by the hands that covered his face.
“We’re so sorry for your loss, Joe.” Sam felt like an impotent asshole. What good would her words of sympathy do him when he’d lost the love of his life? She tried to imagine how she would feel if someone gunned down her husband. No. Just no. She couldn’t bear to entertain the thought.
“She’s pregnant,” he said softly, his head still down. “We just found out three days ago. She was so happy. How could this have happened?”
Sam’s heart broke for him—and his wife. She glanced at Freddie and saw him battling his emotions. Sometimes this job sucked so bad. Well, most of the time it sucked. “Do you have other children?”
Shaking his head, he said, “This was our first. We’ve been trying for a long time.” He looked up at them, devastation etched into his face as it seemed to register with him that he’d lost two loved ones today. “Who would’ve done this to her?”
“We don’t know, but we’re going to find out.”
His shoulders sagged when he seemed to realize that even if they caught the perp it wouldn’t change anything for him. His wife would still be dead.
“Is there someone we can call for you?” Freddie asked.
Joe released a deep breath and wiped tears off his face. “My sister lives in Georgetown. I...I just talked to her an hour ago and told her she’s going to be an aunt.” He broke down again. “I can’t believe this has happened.”
“If you give me your sister’s number, I’ll call her for you,” Freddie said.
Sam was never more thankful to have him as her partner than in situations such as this, which required the gentle touch that came so naturally to him.
“Her name is Sarah.” Joe retrieved his phone, found his sister’s number and handed it to Freddie, who placed the call. He walked a short distance away so Joe wouldn’t have to hear him deliver the dreadful news to his sister.
“What do I do now?” Joe asked, looking up at Sam. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You could help by telling me where she was coming from.”
“She went out for happy hour with some of her colleagues. She joked this morning about how happy hour wouldn’t be quite so happy because she couldn’t drink for nine months. But it was her friend’s birthday, so she wanted to go for a little while. I told her I’d make dinner.” He shook his head in disbelief. “If she hadn’t gone out after work, this wouldn’t have happened.” Tears filled his eyes and spilled down his cheeks. “She would’ve been home two hours ago. She would’ve been safe.”
Sam suspected that twist of fate would haunt him for the rest of his life. She placed a hand on his shoulder, wishing there was more she could do to comfort him.
Freddie walked over to them, his expression bleak, indicating the phone call had been as dreadful as expected. “Your sister is on her way. She’ll
